


Riders on the Storm

by pseudogoose



Category: Better Call Saul (TV)
Genre: Cunnilingus, Dominance, F/M, Femdom, Het, Hurt/Comfort, Light BDSM, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-08
Updated: 2021-02-08
Packaged: 2021-03-13 16:42:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29281659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pseudogoose/pseuds/pseudogoose
Summary: After tricking the stock trader, Kim and Jimmy head back to her place. Jimmy submits.
Relationships: Jimmy McGill | Saul Goodman & Kim Wexler, Jimmy McGill | Saul Goodman/Kim Wexler
Kudos: 14





	Riders on the Storm

**Author's Note:**

> Little PWP missing scene from 2x01 "Switch," taking place between when we see Kim and Jimmy kiss at the bar and the following morning when he wakes up in her bed.

On any other given night she might pull away from this kiss, smooth her blouse and say something like, “Call me tomorrow?” Her mouth is sticky against his, the sweetness of the agave so much more pronounced for having been purchased with the discount Patrick Bateman’s money, and for lingering this long on Kim Wexler’s lips. Jimmy did the math quickly in his head and figured there was a one in twenty chance that the night ended here, despite the urgency in her kiss. But when she pulls away, she’s still smiling breathlessly and she whispers, “My place?”   
  


“Yeah. Yes,” he does not need to be asked twice and he’s barely had time to answer before she’s leading him away, her hand clutched around her both her purse strap and his fingers, her nails digging into his skin as they stumble through the dimly lit parking lot, her heels clicking in an arrhythmic way and Jimmy nearly trips over himself trying to keep up with her.   
  


He crashes his body against hers when she finally reaches her car door, and he reluctantly lets go of her hand to allow her to begin fumbling with the keys, instead closing his fingers around the base of her ponytail and clawing it aside to plant a row of hot, wet kisses down the back of her neck. His other hand wastes no time in slithering up under her skirt, his fingertips finding the hem of her soft cotton thong just in time for her to let out a little groan, shoving her ass backwards into his growing erection and gasping, “Not here. Get in. What, you’re waiting for me to open the door for you,  _ Viktor _ ?”   
  


“A gentleman would.”  
  


A siren wails somewhere and she starts a little, and they both laugh as he reluctantly tears himself away from her to circle around to the passenger side.   
  


“They’re coming for you, Wexler.”   
  


He’d ridden in her car dozens of times but had never noticed that the middle console made it so difficult to reach over and put his hand between her legs.  
  


_ Not here. _ How many times had he heard that, in between stacks of unsorted trial exhibits in the HHM basement on late, caffeine fueled nights; very early mornings in the nail salon over half-eaten boxes of pizza and piles of study materials? “Not here” never meant “no”--straddling his face in a supply closet, a regrettable quickie in a pedicure chair--but it usually did mean something fleeting, something brief but unforgettable.    
  
  
Tonight felt so different, yet her apartment inside had its same warm glow from the simple desk lamp, and her orange paisley-printed comforter released the same burst of a sort of vanilla and candy scent as she pushed him down onto it without even locking her front door behind her.   
  


Then Kim was on top of him, her skirt hiked up past her thighs and her crotch grinding against his erection through his pants as he groped helplessly at the fabric of her blouse, doing his best to yank the shirt up as she pressed her mouth against his mercifully once more; this time more urgent than in the parking lot, her teeth scraping against his lower lip. He was unable to stop himself from moaning out in surprise and pain, but when she pulled back and murmured, “Are you okay?” he nodded desperately and mumbled back “Mmhmm,” still fiddling with the hem of her blouse.  
  


Her hands were suddenly touching his cheeks and she was staring into him with her piercing aegean eyes.   
  


“No, but, are you okay?” she said again, more seriously, her chest heaving. Her eyeliner had smudged a little bit and her hair was dangerously close to losing its form, to falling to her shoulders in that soft way he’d only been lucky enough to see a few times before.   
  


She looked and sounded so heartbreakingly sincere that a not-insignificant part of him wanted to reply, no, that he would never be okay again--everything with HHM and Chuck’s betrayal, the burning shame and indignance and  _ rage  _ and losing Marco...  
  


“I’m...I’m fine,” he sputtered back, rubbing the small of her exposed back, trying not to let his thoughts kill the moment or god forbid his boner. He started pulling her shirt up again, slower this time, until her breasts in their plain white bra were exposed. “I need...I just need….”  
  


“I know what you need,” she replied serenely, stroking his face and his hair, and he smiled stupidly back at her until she completely demolished the moment by delivering a firm, swift slap across his face.   
  


His cock throbbed and she seemed to sense it, grinding her pelvis against his erection once more.   
  


“Is that what you need?” her tone was playful and light, full of deceitful innocence. “You need me to take care of you?”  
  


“Yes,” he gasped, gripping her hips, pulling the skirt ever higher until her warm, shapely ass filled his palms.   
  


“You better ask nicely then,” she replied, reaching back and firmly yanking his hands from her body, then pinning them above his head with alarming strength. She yanked at his shirt with her teeth, ferally, squeezing his wrists as she shoved them deeper into the pillow. “Ask nicely.”   
  


“Please...please take care of me.”  
  


“Please what?” She let go of one wrist to raise her hand above his face again and he winced prematurely, causing her to let out a giggle for which on any other occasion he might have teased her.   
  


“Take care of me,” he said again, staring into her eyes, meaning it, and he braced as she raised her hand again but instead of hitting him she tangled her fingers in his hair.   
  


“First you’re going to take care of me.”  
  


She was straddling his face before he could utter his complete agreement. He moaned as she grinded her pussy against his mouth--even through the simple heather gray Tommy Hilfger thong he could feel how wet she was. He nibbled on the cotton fabric; the wetness had caused the fabric to chafe on his face and chin. She let out a whimper, resting her knees on either side of his head until they had pinned his hands to the mattress and adjusting herself so that she was positioned perfectly over his mouth. He inhaled her sweet, tangy scent and let out a guttural moan, causing her to giggle once more before she wiggled her hips and thrust against him more forcefully.   
  


He couldn’t access anything with his hands at the moment, still pinned under her knees, so using his teeth he yanked the panties to the side and attached his tongue and lips to her clit.  
  


She gasped and bucked, her knees moving enough for him to slip his hands out from under them. He used the opportunity to reach up and grope at her breasts, still frustratingly imprisoned in their lacy white prison.   
  


“Ah ah ah,” she chastised, and she grabbed his hands and shoved them away. “Not until you show me how well you can eat my pussy.”  
  


He cried out in indignance but did not stop flicking his tongue against her clit, settling for his hands to wrap around her ass instead which provided a useful opportunity to push her body closer to him and she let out several wild gasps as she began rocking back and forth against him.   
  


“Oh God,” she gasped, throwing her head back and groping her own breasts now, one of the most beautiful sights he had ever seen. “How am I going to reward you?”

  
“Ffmmmuhhh,” he muttered unhelpfully, and she lifted herself off of him with some reluctance.  
  


“What was that?”  
  


“Fuck me?” he said, a query; more like begging and he quickly remembered to rephrase it: “Please, can I fuck you?”   
  


She rolled off of him, reaching up behind her back to unhook her bra which fell uselessly beside the bed. Her breasts exposed, nipples erect and pink against her alabaster skin, she sat up on her knees and was wiggling out of her underwear, her skirt still hiked high up around her waist. “I  _ guess _ so, if you think that’s what you deserve….”  
  


She laid on her back and spread her legs, Jimmy remaining motionless as he awaited further instruction. She began impatiently snapping her fingers like one might at a disobedient puppy, spreading her legs. “You’re not done yet.”   
  


He rolled onto his stomach and slid his arms up under her knees and behind her thighs, wrapping them around her hips to spread her labia with each of his hands. Her pussy was literally dripping and he gasped at the sight of it, the neatly trimmed curls of hair and her slick pink vulva.   
  


“Do you like eating my cunt?”   
  


“Yes,” he began lapping at her exposed clit again and readjusted his right arm, pulling it out from under her so that he could slip a finger inside of her.   
  


“Yes what?”   
  


“Yes...Counselor,” he mumbled and she laughed.  
  


“Not quite,” she said, yanking his head back, and his tongue lapped at the air in an effort to connect with her pussy again.   
  
“Goddess of Wisdom Athena, Goddess of Love Aphrodite, Mistress,” he gasped, her fingers yanking painfully and wonderfully on his hair as he tried fruitlessly to continue eating her out.  
  
“Mmm, better,” she said, chuckling again, allowing his tongue to briefly touch her clit before yanking his head away again.   


“Your Honor,” he gasped.  
  


“That’ll work,” she said finally, moaning in approval as she allowed his mouth to attach to her swollen sex again.   
  


Using his left hand to spread her pussy and his right to finger fuck her, he began tracing lyrics to Doors songs over her sensitive little clit with his tongue. His jaw was beginning to cramp but he didn’t care and he wouldn’t-- _ couldn’t _ stop, humming a bit as he switched from The End to Riders on the Storm.  
  


This was what caused her to arch her back and grind her pussy harder against his face, screaming out, “Oh fuck, Jimmy, don’t stop,” and Jimmy couldn’t help but marvel at her good taste.   
  


_ Killer on the road. Killer on the road.  
_ _   
_ _   
_ He could feel her contracting on his finger, the hot juices dripping out of her, spilling over his chin and onto the bedding in a sticky puddle; the entire time emitting a noise he’d never heard her make before.    
  
Finally she pushed his head away and her body jerked a few more times, as she looked down at him, her face glowing with sweat and the ponytail now completely out. She laughed as he kissed her inner thighs and let out a high-pitched squeal when he delivered one final kiss to her still-throbbing clit.   
  


“Come…here,” she panted.  
  


“Did I do good?” his face was level with hers now, his hands still grasping her bare ass.   
  


“You did wonderfully,” she said, seeming to regain some of her stamina as she flipped him onto his back and straddled his hips.   
  


Suddenly she was shoving something in his mouth and he moaned in excitement and pleasure as he realized it was her soaking wet panties. Then she had deftly pulled his hard, pulsating cock from his pants and he knew there was no way in hell he was going to last as long as he might have liked.   
  


He was trying to gesture and warn her of this fact as she slipped his dick inside her and he shuddered in pleasure. She tightened around him, forcing him to quickly think of grandmothers....Harry Hamlin...anything to avoid embarrassing himself.   
  


“You like my pussy?” she asked, rocking against him, letting out little grunts of pleasure when her clit bounced against his pubic bone. Then, realizing he couldn’t answer, she gently pulled the panties from his mouth.  
  


“Yes mistress.”  
  


“Say it.”  
  


“I love your tight wet little pussy,” he moaned helplessly, figuring correctly that being as descriptive as possible might serve him better, and then she had leaned forward and was pressing her thong over his throat, choking him with the soaking panties and moaning as she bounced up and down, up and down, and it must have only been less than ten strokes to push him over the edge.   
  


He cried out as he came, he could feel his throat ripping the threading of the underwear as she held it tight against his Adam’s apple. The combination of the rush of blood to his head with the release of his orgasm sent his body spasming several times until she fell off of him, beside him on the bed, still half dressed.   
  


She delivered a series of kisses up his shoulder and neck, then to his jaw and finally against his lips as she reached under his body and gently began yanking at the bedding; pulling the sheets and comforter free from under him and tucking them around his body.    
  


“Good boy,” she said then, only half kidding, and as she disappeared into the bathroom his eyes fell shut and he drifted into a deeper sleep than he had had in years.


End file.
